


All of the Love

by soniagiris



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Angst, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gen Work, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Other, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Slice of Life, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 15:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10879740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soniagiris/pseuds/soniagiris
Summary: Their love is like a string, connecting everything and holding together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   * [title source](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ypofGDdHpo)
>   * warnings in the end notes <3
>   * big shot out to ndrv3 discord chat for giving me requests and to vee @ikuzonos for betaing <333
> 


_1\. soulmates au; togami/kirigiri_

When the feed from the game

(the final game)

cuts, Togami absentmindedly rubs his wrist. He didn't even see Kirigiri, and even though Naegi was able to look him in the eye — Naegi can't know, not like him.

He knows his internal scrimmage would end with just a small peek on the timer. Maybe the moving numbers have changed again so they could stop sooner than expected, a sign that Kirigiri has— But that's just a possibility. Perhaps, she's still fighting, and the time had been elongated. Or...

(nothing has changed)

He shakes those thoughts off and starts commandeering his subordinates, and barely realizes how many hours have passed when he jumps out of the helicopter and stares up, up at the building brimming with unnecessary slaughter. His fists shake, but that doesn't matter. Not that, nor Kirigiri

(his soulmate)

with her crew. Once again, Togami loses himself — in interviewing Hagakure and trying not to show his worry, in strategizing, in trying to figure out how to keep his promise. It exhausts him, sure, but, just for a few moments he doesn't have the time to think about how the timer inked on his skin had started when he first locked eyes with Kirigiri, all those years ago, and how his heart was fluttering in chest, and he still remembers how he thought to himself, so, is this love? Is this what is love supposed to be? And why her? Why was it

(me)

her?

Putting away this old, unanswered question, Togami strolls into the lobby.

The robots explode, and he barely manages to escape from the groaning building. A spare plank hits him in the head. He falls, falls down. Blacks out.

Wakes up in a tent, his jacket thrown on the folding chair. His wrist is bared, a series of black numbers stark on his pale skin. Togami feels himself fall, once again.

There are only zeros. Kirigiri, Kyoko Kirigiri, his

(soulmate)

(never-to-be lover)

has died.

 

* * *

 

_2\. childhood best friends au; gonta/angie_

 

Birds of a feather flock together — something in Gonta dislikes this saying, but the most rational part of him has to agree with it. Empirically — his mother taught him that words — he had to learn it when his classmates refused to talk with him. With a giant, a misfit, a weirdo. Such an ugly word, Gonta has decided, wrinkling his nose as he sat by himself in the schoolyard, watching the ants navigate over roots of a hunched birch. He envied those small insects — they managed to work together without being forced to.

But maybe because they were so similar to each other? While Gonta was the only... weirdo. He still hates this word.

A few months after that realization, something's changed. A new girl joins the class; she's tanned and white-haired and with a foreign accent pitching her syllabes. The cool kids call her a witch, a grandma ("she's not seven, she's seventy!" they laugh, "what are you doing here, nanny?"), pull on her ponytails and then flee when they see Gonta's face scrunch into a displeased frown. He stomps to the befallen girl and offers her his pudgy hand. She raises her eyes to him and—

Her smile is bright and untroubled.

"Hiii," she sing-songs as her fingers tangle with his. "Wow, that was so awesome, like, oh my gosh! Sir, you're Angie's hero!"

"A-ah, thank you, but that's... I didn't do much! That was really nothing unusual." Gonta flushes pink. His mother always reminds him to be a gentleman, making his mom roll her eyes and chide her that he's just — a kid.

However, Angie — that's her name, right? It's really pretty — allows herself to be pulled up, but doesn't pull away, standing on her tiptoes and grinning. There's a smear of pastel-pink paint on her cheek.

"Aww, don't be like that—"

"Gonta!" The boy bites on his lip nervously.

"Gonta-chan. You're, like, super duper cool. God says that I gotta befriend such a cool person, you know."

No, he decides. Angie isn't a weirdo. But, even so, he'll try to listen to that... God of hers.

* * *

_3\. teacher/student au; kaede &kokichi _

 

Teaching a literal monkey would be easier, that's what Kaede thinks during the better days. During the worse ones... Well. She's too busy trying to keep her calm facade to think anything — except, well, somehow finding the time to curse Ouma-kun inwardly. Because, let's be honest, the boy cannot be real. Even if he is an actual human being, his obnoxiousness must be... something else.

"No, that's— That's the wrong key," Kaede says for the third time this day. "Ouma-kun, you were supposed to hit C, not— not D."

"Sorry, guess I can't keep up with Kaede-chan," Ouma laughs and hits keys at random, making the piano let out a sound reminiscent of a dying cat. Holding back a wince, Kaede rubs the bridge of her nose and says,

"How about we wrap this out earlier? I think we, um, have made progress today, you earned your rest." The smile plastered on her face falters a bit when she pushes the stool back and stands up, Ouma-kun's warmth still lingering on her side.

"Kaede-chan?" he whines, flapping his fingers around and sticking his lower lip out. "I can't feel my hands... Kiss them better?" His eyes water as he chokes on a oh-so-sincere sob.

Barely sparing a look at him, Kaede turns back and sets to making two cups of blueberry green tea, pulling all the necessities from the cupboard she set in the piano room specifically for that. After she clicks the switch on the old kettle, she faces Ouma-kun and sticks her hand out.

"Would you mind showing me the damage?" she asks calmly. Ouma-kun blinks at that, then shoots her a smile and lets his palm rest over hers.

"Sooo, will I get those kisses?"

Gently kneading the pale, small fingertips, Kaede shakes her head.

"Those are only callouses, nothing special." She meets his eyes and adds with a smirk, "If you tried just a bit harder, you'd have them much earlier."

"Kaede-chan, you wound me!"

 

* * *

 

_4\. teacher/single parent au; jin/koichi_

 

"Kyoko, come here for a moment, could you?"

Taking off his reading glasses, Jin folds the note and gives his nonplussed daughter a stern look.

"What is going on, dad?" the girl asks warily, playing with the end of her braid as Jin tries to find the correct words (and promptly gives up on that).

"Your homeroom teacher informed me that you bit your colleague," he simply says.

Kyoko shrugs. "I didn't do it without reason," she says calmly. For the love of god, sometimes Jin feels as if she's much older than him, with her pale hair and pale eyes and stiff lip.

Then he reminds himself that she... did what she did.

"What was your reason, then?" he inquires. Kyoko blinks at him, then raises from the floor and leaves the room. Find it yourself, she means by that, and the proud smirk she gives her dad on her way out makes him sure of it.

Well.

Jin reaches for his phone and, swearing under his breath, searches for Kyoko's teacher's number. He had a funny name, didn't he? Kiza-something. Hell, who would've thought that Jin would have to use it so soon? Barely a week into the school year.

He initiates the call, turning on the speaker and once again rereading the note. The teacher picks up after a tenth ring after Jin already starts to regret his idea of calling the man at... six pm? It's not that late, but who knows—

"Kizakura speaking," a raspy voice says with an audible smile. "With whom do I have the pleasure?"

"Kirigiri, Kirigiri Jin. I'm the father of your student, her name's—"

"Ah, Kyoko-chan!"

Kyoko-chan? Jin blinks at the screen. Last time he called her that, she was about five and still had her mother.

"Yes, about that." He clears his throat. "I heard that she—"

"Ah, no, no no no. Sorry, Kirigiri-kun, but let's talk about it face to face." When a strangled noise escapes from Jin, Kizakura-san chuckles. "Don't worry, it's nothing that bad. But I would like to talk to you."

To his own surprise, Jin agrees. Thene ends the call. Then he stares at the note.

"Thanks, Kyoko."

 

* * *

 

_5\. one night stand and falling pregnant au; togami/kirigiri_

 

The woman standing before Togami could dang well be one of his subordinates — sharply dressed, in an immaculate dark-grey suit and smooth lavender hair tied in a tight bun, with a boredom carefully painted on her pale face. She really could be — well, if it weren't for the document she hands him without any proper explanation. Briefly focusing on her gloved hand, Togami takes the paper, too befuddled to call for security or ask the woman to be a dear and enlighten him about her presence here.

He takes one look at the impersonal print and chokes on his coffee.

"We met a month ago," the woman says tartly, and she's inanely close to inspecting her nails, judging by her disinterested expression. "Remember? That party in Mandarin Oriental. You went overboard with sake, spilled everything about your tragic backstory to me, and somehow we ended up with this predicament." She taps the script with a wry smirk.

"But I—" Togami clears his throat. Wait. "So I presume you don't remember as well? Why would I be the father of y— this child?"

"Because, do believe me, I do not partake in sleeping around." She sits in the chair on the other side of his desk, crossing her long, well-muscled legs. "This child can only be yours."

Togami takes one more look at the pregnancy test, then rubs the bridge of his nose. God, he'd love a— no, no more drinks for him. Look what his beloved Akita Homare got him into.

"How did you find me?" he asks tiredly, quickly typing a note to his secretary about cleaning his schedule for the entire day.

"You left your comb," the woman says with a self-satisfied grin, "Togami-kun." His name sounds strange in her mouth. Togami pulls on his collar, then stands up, circles the desk and looks at her closely.

"What do you plan to do?"

Her smirk disappears.

"I want to keep the baby. If you want a paternity test, I have no problem with that."

Shrugging, Togami offers his hand to hers.

"Then I will help you..."

"Kirigiri." Her grip is firm. "But feel free to call me Kyoko."

 

* * *

 

_6\. meeting at a coffee shop au; maki/shirogane_

 

Whenever Maki finds herself awake at three am, aware she won't sleep anymore, and with about five hundred yen she won't have to surrender to the piggy bank, her options dwindle to just one: a particular all-night open cafe. The cheapest one in the campus, crammed with scratched ceramic mugs and shabby bean bags. No wonder it's usually bustling with zonked students—

At least it is during more reasonable hours. Now, when Maki pushes the creaky door open and inhales the scent of old coffee, she only sees the barista — a pale-haired missy who's cursing at her phone — and a... Hm. Ordering her coffee and trying not to wince at barista missy's lack of proper manners, Maki subtly looks at the...

No. No way she's not an art student. With her turquoise locks falling around her bare shoulders and a patchy sweater hanging off her thin body, there's no other way. Maki absentmindedly plays with her ponytail, then, telling herself she's a freaking adult, sits by the girl and says, awkwardly,

"Hey."

"Mm?" Miss Art Student tucks her pencil behind her ear and raises her eyes. Maki sees her reflection in the oval spectacles. "Oh, hi! Is there anything I can help you with?" She tilts her head and grins. Whoops. Maki conspicuously wipes her hands on her jeans, then tries to return the smile.

"No, not really. I just haven't seen you here before."

"Neither did I!" Miss Art Student laughs. "And I'm pretty sure I'd notice you!"

"Likewise," Maki replies, wrapping her hands around the lime-green mug. Then her brain catches up to her. "Wait. What."

"Oh, sorry!" Miss Art Student covers her mouth, her sea-blue eyes widening. "I was being weird, weren't I? Creepy? Ugh!" She tugs on her hair. "In mangas I've read, pick up lines like this always work!"

"No, don't worry." Maki gently grabs her wrist; this time, smiling feels quite comfortable. "I'd notice you too."

Miss Art Student relaxes.

"Thank you," she says.

"But... wait. Pick up lines?"

 

* * *

 

_7\. fake relationship au; sonia/kyoko_

 

"Excuse me?" Sonia presses a hand to her lips — as if she somehow didn't get Kyoko's words right away. Figures.

"All right then, once again." Kyoko tucks her braid behind her ear, then says politely, "During the traditional Novoselic spring ball, there'll be a hostile spy mingled between the guests — at least according to my... friend. Yeah." That's one way to put it. She suppresses a scowl. "Anyway, if you could get me an invitation, I'd be eternally grateful, Nevermind-senpai."

"Sonia-senpai, if you may," the girl corrects her without missing a beat. She's frowning a bit, but more in confusion than outright denial. "Or simply Sonia, Kirigiri-san. I do not mind the lack of honorifics..."

"I. I see." Trying to gather her thoughts, Kyoko looks around her room. She doesn't remember it being this clean before — but, after all, were Sonia to see the usual mess, she'd never fulfill Kyoko's request.

"I'm sorry, Kirigiri-san," Sonia says meekly. "I can't quite fulfill your request."

Wait. What.

"Do forgive me," she adds, "but the rules of this aforementioned dance say that only the family, friends and their partners are to be let in." She casts her eyes down. "If I were the one in charge, I'd surely do my best to help you with this grave matter."

"Then allow me to be your plus one," Kyoko says — certainly doesn't blurt out. Certainly.

"But... we aren't, what was the correct word, dating?" Sonia blinks owlishly, a small smile tugging on her rosy lips.

"We could pretend." Reaching out for the pot, Kyoko pours them a cup of jasmine tea. "It'd be more believable, considering there are a few more months left till the event."

"Mm, my parents would be indeed enthralled with you." Sonia takes an elegant sip of sweet-smelling liquid, then allows her grin to blossom fully. "I'm freakin' in!"

Taken aback by that sudden boisterousness, Kyoko steeples her fingers on the table. Then shakes it off and touches Sonia's hand.

"Thank you."

 

* * *

 

_8\. roommates au; mondo/kirigiri_

 

"If someone asks 'bout me, you don't know shit, right?" was the first thing Owada-kun said to Kyoko after they moved together.  She vaguely thought that he should have scared her a bit, with all his muscles and tattoos and leather coats... But. But, to be entirely honest, Kyoko just felt a bit amused.

"Give me a reason to cover your back, first," she struck back. Owada blinked, then grinned and clapped her on the back heartily.

"Alright then," he chuckled. "Didn't take ya for such a tough chick."

And, yeah, despite them being on the different sides of the law — Kyoko has the prefectural police officer on a speed dial while Mondo keeps coming back to their apartment with black eyes and/or bruised knuckles — they kind of get along. Okay. Better than that. First eating pizza at three am when both of them had long (and violent) day, then Owada giving Kyoko a massage after sitting in her office for ten hours straight gave her a terrible backache, and, three years into sharing two rooms with a kitchen and half of bathroom, a private party ended up with them falling asleep on each other.

"What the hell," Kyoko says upon waking up. "Mondo, you twat."

The man grumbles something into her lap. She flicks him in the ear.

"Giddof," he adds helpfully. Kyoko pinches him.

"You get off. I need twenty liters of water and our entire supply of painkillers, and I can't get up."

Mondo promptly mutters out yet another quip. Kyoko rolls her eyes, kind of regretting her proficiency at hungover-biker-asshole-ese.

"Yes, my hangover is killing me. And yes, it's your fault." Hm. She could push his head off herself. "You told me this is typical vodka, not some Russian... mix of engine oil and pure ethanol." But then he'd fall off onto their carpet and hit himself. "You piece of horseshit."

"Love ya too," Mondo adds, and Kyoko happily shoves him.

 

* * *

 

_9\. meeting online au; ryoma/gonta_

 

**You are talking with a stranger!**

**Stranger:** Hello!

 **Stranger:** Hello?

 **Stranger:** Are you there?

 **You:** yeah, yeah, i'm here. sorry, kid, had to feed my cat

 **Stranger:** Oh, you have a cat! What's its name? Gonta would love to have a cat, but he's afraid it would harm his bugs...

 **You:** well, yeah, i have a cat. even three. they're named omelet, stella, and ball. p nice guys, this bunch

 **You:** so your name is gonta right? kid, be careful with this stuff, you never know who're you talking to

 **Stranger:** Oh, that's correct, I'm sorry! Gonta isn't very smart with things like this...

 **You:** nah, don't worry. name's ryouma, by the way, nice to meet you and all that jazz

 **Stranger:** Pleased to meet you too, Ryouma-kun! And Gonta really means it, he does appreciate bumping into such a thoughtful and polite person like you!

 **You:** wow, thanks. you're pretty cool too, i guess

 **You:** at least better than all those people interested in only one thing

 **Stranger:** What thing?

 **You:** all this "female 19", "male 20" stuff, y'know

 **Stranger:** Forgive me, but I still don't know...

 **You:** really? but ya had to happen upon people like that before finding me

 **Stranger:** Gonta did, but when he introduced himself, they just disconnected... I am worried this was my fault. Was it?

 **You:** no, believe me, it wasn't

 **You:** listen, sorry but i have to go. talking with you was fun, so, if you want to, i can give you my skype

 **Stranger:** What is skype?

Chuckling through his quick explanation on how to get a Skype account, Hoshi hops from his chair, pauses to pet Ball and check if his little fellas have enough water in their dishes to last till he comes back, then shrugs on his coat. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and when he checks it, he sees a friend request.

 **gonta_g:** Hello, Ryouma-kun, it's Gonta here! Have a nice day at work!

A small smile appears on his lips. Maybe this wasn't such a crappy idea, finding new mates online — but he ain't gonna tell Seia about this.

 

* * *

 

_10\. high school popular kid/nerd au; togami/makoto_

 

Can you miss something you never had? If someone were to ask Togami, he'd only scoff at such ridiculous notion.

The point is — when it turns out that him attending a Japanese high school won't result in being more popular among his peers than during his jolly time in a German secondary school, Togami doesn't feel very surprised by that. And, besides... Hope's Peak's so-called cool kids weren't of his particular interest, this loud and overbearingly optimistic lot of brightly colored yahoos didn't make him envious — merely pissed off.

At least they aren't stupid enough to bully me, Togami allows them as he takes his usual place in the school library, a business law textbook held by the spine in his slender fingers. Untangling the headphones, he taps the icon of the music app and lets the smooth sounds of inoffensive jazz wash over him as he goes back to his studies. For the past few days, he has been poring over how EU's directives are applied in the—

Suddenly — he hears something crash.

Fantastic.

Stopping the music, Togami whips his head up, ready to glare at the idiot — and pauses. The idiot in question is one of the popular kids — Naegi, yes, Togami does remember his name. A few weeks ago he was wondering how such a timid child became so... well-known.

"Sorry," Naegi says, getting to his feet and shooting Togami an apologetic smile. "I stumbled."

"Of course you did," Togami says flatly. "Now, are you going to shoo or—?" He raises his brows.

"Uh, about that. We haven't talked before, and the school year is already a month old..." He laughs awkwardly. "Sorry. Anyway, my name's—"

"Naegi." He points at himself. "Togami. We know that. Anything else?"

"Actually, yeah." He sits by Togami's side and nods at his book. "I tried to read it but didn't understand much. Would you, uh, mind...?"

Ah. That explains the fingertips' marks on the pages. Giving Naegi an approving look, Togami decides he needs to reassess this funny little boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n
> 
>   * **cw: death; insects; bullying; violence; sex mentions; alcohol mentions; pregnancy mentions; violence mentions;**
>   * ok ok this may turn out long but i'd like to say a few words about each drabble lol
>   * 1: i came up with an au where you have a timer that starts when you see your soulmate and stops when they die. uwuwuw requested by @rozanlyfrozen!
>   * 2: non-depair au; gonta has two moms, sorry i ,don't make the rules. also i came up w/ the ship by myself lol
>   * 3: requested by @queenofmelon;, it turned out a bit more platonic than romantic - sorry, i'm a saiede trash,,,
>   * 4: requested by @samekichiis; first time writing kizajin; when i was 6 i actually bit a kid bc he pissed me off
>   * 5: mandarin oriental - a hotel in tokyo; akita homare - a brand of expensive (?) sake
>   * 6: i blame vee
>   * 7: came up w/ the ship by myself (and fell into hell); let them be lesbians Harold,,
>   * 8: i blame vee part 2; i love those fuckers
>   * 9: requested by @sou; seia is their oc (and hoshi's gf <33); i actually spent 10 minutes on omegle before starting to write
>   * 10: requested by @star; i love me them naegamis
>   * basically i'm still taking requests and rn the lift of prompts is: meeting in the E.R/A&E au; meeting at a party whilst drunk au; dysfunctional relationship au. you can request if you want to, but like. check out my tumblr and my shiplist beforehand ok <3
> 



	2. Chapter 2

_ 11\. partners in crime au; hinata/nanami _

 

Turns out, biting on the pen cap held in one's mouth could be potentially damaging to goddamn dental health. Hajime spits out bits of plastic and pulls a pack of menthol chewing gum out of Nanami's stuffed handbag, then eyes the flashing screen of the woman's tablet.

"How's it going?" he asks casually, sitting by her on the cool wooden floor and stretching his legs out. 

"Mm." Without turning her eyes to him, she reaches out and unbuttons his suit jacket. "It's going okay, I think? One of the stakeholders did turn on my game during the meeting, so, as of now, I'm swimming through the system like in Ocarina of Time." 

Hajime nods, not even bothering to roll his eyes. It's been, what, three years since he learned that Nanami would make obscure references even when she's trying to steal billions of yen? That's just part of her charm. Ruffling the woman's hair, Hajime decides he’s had his rest and heaves himself up to check if no one has noticed that the security guard by the name — he checks the ID card — of Mr. Yahari has been captured by a pair of gangly criminals. And tied up with his own shoelaces. Okay, Hajime was the one to do that, Nanami rarely used her delicate muscles for anything else than projecting yet another virus. 

The hallway's clear, so he closes the doors of the broom closet and loosens the knot on Yahari's wrists. Dude already got the tips of his fingers purple, and getting this loser necrosis would be too cruel. Hey, Hajime might be a criminal, but he's not a dick. Not too much of a dick, anyway. He's just tired and pissed off.

"Okay. I'm in." Nanami blinks wearily, then types a few more things. "Alright. We do this as usual. Ninety-nine percent goes to charity; one percent left for us."

Smiling a bit, he confirms the transfer.

 

* * *

 

_ 12\. writer and editor au; saihara/akamatsu _

 

Being a freelancer isn't that bad. Sometimes. More often than not, Kaede can wake up at ten am and stay up to one am, and still get her work done, but today she rolls off her futon at seven, spends an hour preparing dinner and setting up the laundry — and then she can get to work, feeling sleepy and vaguely sickened by how much coffee she has poured into herself since getting up.

"Ping," Kaede parrots tiredly after her computer and opens the inbox. Spam or more spam? If it's, once again, a reminder that she hasn't posted on her blog since last year of high school, she's gonna— 

Ah. No, not this time. Pushing a mug of coffee back, she stretches her cramped legs under the desk and grins at the screen. Ah, the lovely Saihara-kun... Him and his enthralling detective novels, and how, after he first got published with her as his editor, he smiled brightly at the sight of his freshly printed book. Truth be told, she wouldn't say no to talking with him more often, and not only about writing matters.

She skims through the email, absently scribbling down a few things Saihara isn't sure about and would like her opinion on, then stops as she gets to the final paragraph. Huh. Precognition much.

_ Akamatsu-san, if my proposal makes you uncomfortable, feel perfectly free to act as if you never read it, but I was thinking that discussing a few things in so-called 'real life' would prove efficient — therefore, would you like to go for lunch with me? _

Thinking it over, Kaede chews on her lip, then opens the desk drawer where she keeps the notebook with phone numbers and browses through the mess there. Finally, she fishes out a small moleskin scratchpad and hurriedly leafs through it. Sae, Sakemi, Sakomote— Saihara. Then she pulls out her cell from the pocket of her hoodie and types in the number.

 

* * *

 

_ 13\. co-stars au; munakata/yukizome _

 

A few months earlier, Sakakura had roped her into an advertising campaign for a new cafe chain, thus granting them two a year supply of free coffee. And, Chisa being Chisa, took advantage of this small privilege and set the so-called team building meeting with her new co-star there. 

Thank goodness she met the man before and wouldn't blush in public. And that would mean an accidental paparazzi could take a shot of her being supposedly "interested in Kyosuke Munakata, one of the most sought-after movie stars in entire Japan". Geez. She sips on her hazelnut latte, purposely looking Munakata-kun in the eye. The man, sitting across of her, taps a rhythm on the wooden surface of the table as Chisa pulls out the script of the film they'll be starring in. 

"So, Munakata-kun," she says as levelly as she can muster, "I have several ideas on how to interpret those few things, but, of course, I'd hate to employ them without hearing your opinion..." She nods, trying to make herself seem more confident, not like a— a teenager on a first date. 

"Were I to say that I didn't expect you to come that prepared, I'd have to lie," Munakata-kun replies smoothly, rubbing the rim of his cup filled with sweetly smelling lavender tea. His pale eyes twinkle with amusement, and, yeah, Chisa does blush, after all.

Somehow, if he appeared looking like he stepped right off a magazine cover, all prim and proper, Chisa would keep the air of polite professionalism intact. But he's not... wearing his 'crisp and attractive' image now, no, there are loose strands spilling over his brow and a friendship bracelet slips down his wrist as he raises his hand. Resting his cheek on his palm, he eyes her up and down without any malice. 

"I can't wait to work with you," he says with a smile rejuvenating his features.

Yup. Chisa's screwed, after all.

 

* * *

 

_ 14\. lab partners au, harukawa/yumeno _

 

Frowning at the cloudy sky and one-handedly rummaging through the deep, lint-filled pocket of her lab coat, Maki pulls out a pack of cigarettes. She flips it open and frowns, noting that she has only five left. Dammit. She lights one up after a bit of fiddling and takes a slow drag, then leans against the wall and goes back to perusing her notepad. 

She's thoroughly engaged in wondering why the hell the results of last week's experiment make little sense, when someone taps her forearm. Pulling her face in a scowl, Maki looks away from the papers and to some kid, who's giving her a tired stare.

"What," she grunts out. "You get lost?"

"Naa— I didn't." The girl idly scratches her ear with her index finger. "M'name's Yumeno. I'm supposed to work here, with—"

So she's not a lost school kid, but a new lab technician that was supposed to arrive today.

"With Maki Harukawa," Maki sighs. "That's me. Nice to meet you. I guess."

A new lab technician — and Maki's assistant.

"Oh." Yumeno tilts her head, heavy eyelids fluttering. "Same goes to you." She stands on her tiptoes and peers at Maki's papers. "What's this."

"An outcome of an experiment," Maki says in a clipped tone. "Listen, Yumeno, you're a specialist in food chemistry, yeah?"

"Uh-huh." She wipes her nose on her sleeve. "What about it?"

"Say…" Maki pauses.

That's the first time she has an actual assistant, so it's not like she knows what is the correct protocol for interacting with Yumeno. Besides, even during group projects, she preferred to do her share of work as soon and with as few social interactions as possible. And now she got a baby-faced squirt, fresh from Osaka University, who's supposed to help her do stuff and — probably — be treated kindly.

"I'll walk you through your new duties, and then we're going to go talk this," she flicks the hand with results, "over a dinner. You cool with that?"

"Mm— Yup." And, for the first time, Yumeno smiles.

 

* * *

 

_ 15\. meeting in the E.R/A&E au; harukawa/chabashira _

 

"So…" Tenko stretches her arms above her, trying not to wince as a passing nurse stumbles a bit and brushes her aching leg. "If Tenko may ask, what happened to you?"

The girl sitting on the other wheelchair, covered in scrapes and swabs of gauze, offers her a blank look. 

"I killed a man and broke my left pinky."

"W-well," Tenko laughs with some difficulty. That must've been a joke. Right? "If you really did that, Tenko doesn't think she's supposed to hear you confess."

The girl cracks a small, awkward-looking smile, then, very slowly and carefully, rolls her shoulders and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning forward a bit as she props her elbow on the wheelchair's armrest. Tenko can now notice how deep the scarlet of the girl's eyes is — and she needs to avert her gaze and swallow, her throat suddenly drier than cotton wool.

"Maki," the girl says after a few minutes of silence. When Tenko starts, then gapes at her, she elaborates, "That's my name."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Maki-san," Tenko says, bowing her head to hide her blush. 

"Same," she replies crisply. "By the way, why are you here?"

For a moment, Tenko cringes internally. Maki-san looks… very nice, and is very nice, and Tenko is very gay. And she'd like to impress her companion — but she doesn't think that telling her about how she slipped during her aikido practice, broke her leg and almost fainted due to the sudden pain and shock would be a good way to show off. In the end, she shrugs and says helplessly,

"Tenko killed a man and broke a toe."

The grin Maki-san gifts to her is the straw that breaks the camel's back. On spur of the moment, Tenko asks,

"Would it be okay if Tenko asked for your phone number?" Hidden by a sudden spurt of inspiration, she adds, "We could be each other's alibis."

And that's when the nurse comes to check on them. Woops.

 

* * *

 

_ 16\. brand new neighbours au; munakata/yukizome _

 

Where the hell— Oh, there it is. Shaking his head at the labyrinth of unpacked boxes, Kyosuke sits by the one with his books and carefully starts taking them out one by one. 

Thank goodness it's the last parcel he'll take care of today. After all, he only has two days worth of disposing of his stuff, and that rather means he has earned his rest.

When all massive tomes are on their respective shelves, Kyosuke orders some takeout — as usual, he almost gives his previous address — and sets a folding chair on the balcony. 

After living for five years in Azabu, being able to simply sit in warm sunlight and look at the park just a few hundred meters away from his new apartment feels more luxurious than… Huh.

He closes his eyes, the exhaustion finally hitting him with full force. Just a few deep breaths, until the food arrives.

"Um," a quiet, feminine voice says, triumphantly pulling him out of the shallow puddle of rest, "are you okay?"

Barely holding back a sigh, Kyosuke raises one eyelid, fully ready to give the woman an irritated glare. However, when he sees her, the intention vanishes out of his mind like a cat scared off with a broom. 

The woman, leaning on the railing that divides the stretch of balconies, blinks her bright green eyes at him, and a blow of evening breeze toys with her ginger ponytail. Her face speaks of kindness streaked with a bit of mischievousness, and the way her yoga pants are splattered with specks of emulsion paint makes Kyosuke think she's new here, too. 

"Ah, yes, sorry for unnerving you," he says, finally. The stranger is... quite beautiful. Swallowing the spike of nervousness, he gets up and adds, "I only moved here recently. Are you...?"

"Ah, yes, me too," she laughs, then wipes her hand on her shirt. "I'm Chisa, Chisa Yukizome. Call me Chisa, though!"

"Kyosuke Munakata. It's nice to meet you, Yukizome-san," Kyosuke says pleasantly. Chisa gives him an exasperated — and absolutely adoring — grin.

 

* * *

 

_ 17\. meeting at a party whilst drunk au; akamatsu/chabashira _

 

Kaede wakes up to a pretty girl's face only a few centimeters away from her own. Usually, she'd go for a smooch — but now, despite her overwhelming bisexuality, she almost ends up punching it. Almost. Because she's still pretty boozed up, so she simply flails around and falls off the couch.

Damn it. Nice going, Akamatsu.

"Ouch," she whines into the carpet of Iruma's guest bedroom. If she strains her ears, she can hear the party going on behind the closed door. 

"Oh god, Tenko is so sorry!" The unfamiliar girl crouches by Kaede's prone form and tugs on her shoulder, "Tenko didn't m-mean to do that!"

"'s fine," Kaede slurs out, rolling to her back and pressing the top of her palm to her blazing hot forehead. Damn it. That's what she gets for washing shots down with wine. Fucking Momota with his genius idea to slide her a bottle of her favorite brand, thanks to that she's now probably making a fool out of herself in front of a cute girl.

"D-does Tenko need to call an ambulance?" Tenko says, just as coherently as Kaede did, and yeah, 's really fine, good and coolio, 'cause she's just as lit as Kaede. So, there's a huge chance they won't remember it tomorrow. Fuck, Kaede already doesn't remember what had been happening before she blacked out. No more partying with both Kaito and Iruma, oh no. Meeting cute girls isn't worth it.

"I think that won't be needed," she says in the end. "Just gotta rest a bit." Then, an idea dawns on her. A Nobel Prize-worthy idea. "Hey, Tenko!"

The girl barely has the time to furrow her brow and open her mouth before Kaede grabs her forearm and pulls her down until she sprawls out on the carpet, with her head on Kaede's chest.

"Wh— Wha—" 

"You rest too," Kaede says haughtily. "Rest is important, ya know. Then we can go back and dance or something. You up for that?"

Tenko doesn't reply, but she blushes extensively. So — yep, she is up for that. Good.

 

* * *

 

_ 18\. waking up with amnesia au; togami/kirigiri _

 

"What the fuck."

Togami jumps a bit in his chair, startled by Kirigiri's voice, but he quickly composes himself and takes a long, studious look at the girl. 

If it weren't for a bandage looped around her head and the fact she just swore, she'd look just like before her getting nailed in the temple by a random Despairling.  Well. And the fact she stares at Togami in confusion.

"Who the hell are you?" she asks irritably. Then her eyes narrow. "Who the hell am I."

Were it someone else, Togami would ask if they were joking. But — Kirigiri looks a bit scared which has never happened before, and, besides, she's not the one to prank around. 

Well. Dang it. Togami stands up from his chair by Kirigiri's bed, pulls on his suit jacket, takes a deep breath.

"You're Kyoko Kirigiri, a former detective, currently a leader of Future Foundation's Fourteenth Branch. My name is Byakuya Togami, and I'm your second-in-command," he proclaims. Kirigiri furrows her brow.

"Future Foundation?"

"An organization which goal is to cure the world from despair." Togami pauses, offhandedly noticing how robotic those words sound. Whatever. Kirigiri might be amnesiac — again — but she's certainly not dumb. "Our branch takes care of public relations and—"

"Wait. Hold on a second, Togami... kun." Kirigiri raises her hand. Scowls briefly at the glove. "This can't be serious. Despair? Organisation?  _ Public relations? _ If I am a detective, why should I be taking care of such trivial things?" She shakes her head with a smirk. "Do forgive me, but I can't quite bring myself to believe your words."

"If I were you, I wouldn't believe myself either," Togami agrees politely, making Kirigiri's smirk bloom into a full-blown amused smile. 

"I see," she says. "So. The despair. By god, combine it with my situation," she brushes the wrappings around her head, "and it's as if I got thrown into a low-tier doujinshi."

"Indeed," Togami nods. Kirigiri winks at him.

 

* * *

 

_ 19\. parents meeting when they take their kids to class au; naegi/togami _

 

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Makoto leans to pick up Kaede and musses his daughter's hair. The girl rolls his eyes at him.

"Daddy," she whines. "I gotta look cool."

"You're already cool to me," he says fondly, making Kaede sigh with the weariness not befitting a three-year-old. 

Makoto rocks her gently as he watches other parents fill into the room, each one of them leading their kid. His attention is captured by a high, blond man with sharp gaze who tries his best to slick his son's cowlick down. 

"It won't work," Makoto chirps. The guy blinks at him, sneering.

"It will work, not unlike with your child."

"Good morning," Kaede says politely, then wriggles out of her dad's grip and strolls to the quiet boy. "Hi! I'm Kaede!"

"I-I'm Shuichi," the boy mutters, giving his father a helpless look. The man nods at him. 

"Don't look at me like that. Go play with your new friend, explore this..." He glances at the brightly colored walls and scattered toys of the kindergarten. "This place."

When Kaede pulls Shuichi to a set of toy race cars, Makoto sneaks another look at the blond. 

Crap. He's hot.

"Your son seems pretty nice," he manages. 

"Of course he's, as you put it, pretty nice," the man adjusts his glasses. "He's the son of Byakuya Togami, after all."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Togami-san," Makoto says with a smile. "I'm Makoto Naegi."

"Mm." Togami-san glances at the caretaker who's entering the room, her orange hair tied with an obnoxiously huge bow. "How about, after making sure this woman is apt at taking care of the children, we go for a coffee? I shall teach you how to tame your daughter's hair."

Makoto rubs his neck. Agrees. 

From the other side of the room, Kaede gives him a thumbs up. Little fox.

 

* * *

 

_ 20\. dysfunctional relationship au; hoshi/momota _

 

When the door closes after Kaito, Ryoma can't help but let out a long sigh of relief, then flops down on the shoddy couch and fumbles around for a remote. Which is tucked behind the cushion — which makes no sense, why does Kaito keep putting it there? Ryoma sighs and pulls his favorite blanket — with a big cat print on it — over himself. Whatever. He doesn't have the energy to get angry.

He turns on the TV to a documentary about idol industry in the nineties. Not much time passes before he find his thoughts wandering, unfocused, his attention slipping. 

It's really fuckin' easy to start mulling over dark shit. Like blood and violence, and how it would feel to feel nothing. The narrator drones on about sexism, capitalism and auto-tuning while Ryoma entertains himself with imagining how Kaito would (will?) react to his death. He barely notices when the movie ends, too focused on wondering whether Saihara would or would not show up on his funeral.

Time passes.

When the door opens, Ryoma blinks himself awake and realizes that the TV has turned off by itself. Huh. And that Kaito is home. So Ryoma promptly closes his eyes again and pretends to be asleep. Fuck that. He's not in the mood to deal with Kaito's bullshit about him lazing around.

"Hey, Ryoma, ya home?" 

Then, quietly, "Of course he fucking is, he hasn't left it in what, a week. Damn it…"

And then, under his breath, "Does he even get I wanna help him, but he's making it really fucking hard?"

Nice to know that even his boyfriend hates him. Ryoma barely suppresses a scoff and concentrates on his pretense when Kaito rests his hand on his head, blunt fingertips scraping through his buzzcut. When was the last time he enjoyed that?

He can't even remember. 

Whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n
> 
>   * **cw: injury mention; alcohol; depression**
>   * 1: requested by szeh @szeherezadaa, my first time writing hinanami, it was fun.
>   * 2: saimatsu is love, saimatsu is life.
>   * 3: requested by anonymous, hope you like it.
>   * 4: written for vee @ikuzonos, have the lesbians.
>   * 5: requested by vee, let's fill up the tag.
>   * 6: once again, requested by vee, very old.
>   * 7: requested by klara @fatiguedfern, have them tenkaedes.
>   * 8: requested (kinda) by star @dunyazad, babe you know my jams.
>   * 9: written for sapph @sapphirepetal, enjoy!
>   * 10: requested by star, you asked for this.
>   * the list of prompts for the next chapter: best friend's sibling au, sitting on the same park bench au, tourist/knowledgeable local au. feel free to give me your ship and the preferred au in the comment.
> 



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * beta provided by vee @ikuzonos,  and misty @mistropolis, big IOU
>   * additional warnings in the end notes!!!!!!!!!!
> 


_ 21\. best friend's sibling au; saihara/kiibo _

 

Nanami-san is… unique, for sure. In conversations she takes a while to reply and, when she does, her every other sentence contains a reference to a video game. But, as Shuichi found out after a long night of playing Animal Crossing in their dorm's entertainment room, she's also very pleasant to be around, somewhat a soothing force in his zany life as a criminology student. 

So he's not that surprised to find out that her younger brother ("He's also a first year, Saihara-kun… I think.") is a robot. A very intelligent, kind and  _ human _ robot, who loves his older sister more than life itself — Shuichi sees it in the way he helps her take the muffins out of their overly spacious oven and then blows at them whilst Nanami-san looks for the can of whipped cream.

"So," Shuichi says, leaning against the kitchen door, "Kiibo-kun, right? That's, uh." He mentally swears at himself, then continues, "that's a very nice name."

"Oh!" Kiibo-kun straightens up, giving Shuichi a beaming smile. "Thank you, Saihara-kun!" He glances down at a cupcake, then shakes his head and slides it Shuichi's way. "Would you mind taste-tasting it?"

"N-no, I wouldn't mind!" Shuichi takes a bite, eyebrows raising, and mumbles out, "It's great!" Yeah, he's a perpetually hungry college student, so he'd like it even if Kiibo-kun and Nanami-san — who's been gone for so long it's possible she fell asleep in the dining room — mistook salt for sugar, but they didn't, and it really tastes great.

"I'm glad to know!" Kiibo-kun tilts his head, scratching his cheek. "Chi-chan told me you'd come, so I wanted to prepare something nice… But I forgot I wouldn't be able to taste it."

"I'm sorry," Shuichi says carefully, swallowing the last bite of the cupcake. "I— I didn't mean to—"

"Ah, it's okay, Saihara-kun!" Kiibo-kun shrugs, going back to setting the cupcakes on a decorative plate. "I may not have a human body, but I'm still one, after all!" And, over his shoulder, he gives Shuichi another smile, not as wide, but somehow even brighter than the ones before.

And, after he leaves the room, Shuichi can't make himself go follow him. Just stands still and thinks  _ oh. _

 

* * *

 

_ 22\. two miserable people meeting at a wedding au; kuwata/koizumi _

 

The music changes from a sappy love song to an even sappier love song — Leon can't help but roll his eyes and get up from his chair to head straight to the drinks bar. Yeah, yeah, congratulations on finally sealing the deal, Sayaka, Mukuro, but let a guy live. 

On his way to a fine-lookin' glass of champagne, he spots the two of them twirling on the dancefloor, all blushy and happy, pretty in their matching outfits and so terribly in love it kind of hurts to watch. Well. Whatever.

With the drink finally in his hand, Leon moves to go back to his seat and brood some more, but then he bumps into someone, almost spilling the liquor all over himself. As he feels a scowl coming onto his face, he turns to eye that person — and kinda freezes.

"Hi," the person, a red-haired girl in a pale-green dress, says awkwardly, tilting her head. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sure," Leon answers, checking the girl out. She's kinda sweet, with that messy bob cut and wide apple-colored eyes. "Ah, sorry for crashin’ into you."

"Just be more careful next time," she huffs. "What's your name?"

"Leon," he says without any delay. Okay, sue him, he's sorta intimidated — but also  _ dang.  _ This girl got a temper. Good for her.

"Mahiru," comes the reply. "What is your relation to our beautiful newlyweds?"

"Used to go to one school with them. They're my buds, those two. Yours?"

"I'm Sayaka-chan's photographer." Mahiru shrugs. "That's all." Then she looks at him from underneath her lashes and asks, in a careful tone of voice, "Are you here by yourself, Leon-kun?"

At that moment — he should make up a funny little story that has nothing to do with his boyfriend — well, ex-boyfriend — who dumped him a few days ago and then went with his friend for a trip to Hawaii. 

But, instead, he tells the full story. Hey. Mahiru seems trustworthy.

"Is the interrogation over?" he adds after he's finished. She blinks, then nods with a wry smile.

"It is. By the way… I'm also by myself for similar reasons." She nudges his arm in a friendly sort of manner. Grinning, Leon reaches out for a glass of champagne and hands it to her.

Maybe this wedding won't be so saddening, now that he appears to have a new pal.

 

* * *

 

_ 23\. meeting on a train ride au; momota/gokuhara _

 

To be honest? Fuck trains. 

Sure, everyone talks shit about Shinkansens this, Hikaris that, but when you're a broke-ass college student, just like Kaito, you're stuck travelling in, like, seventh class, with a smelly toddler and a drunk business man accompanying you.

Careful not to let his irritation show, Kaito slaps the compartment's door open and struts out into the corridor — where he can finally sigh from the bottom of his lungs and release a few choice words. Then, he slips to the floor and crosses his arms, grumbling to himself.

If it wasn't for the fact that Maki Roll got herself a summer house and invited him for the weekend, he really wouldn't bother with the trip from Tokyo to Yamaguchi that'll take him the entire night he could've spent on studying astrophysics for the next semester. But, alas, he's fucked himself into this mess. Whatever. He closes his eyes.

He's about to doze off when someone touches his arm. Lifting his eyelids, Kaito scowls deeply and growls,

"What."

"O-oh, Gonta is sorry!" The dude touching him — boy, ain't he huge — backs off, looking all scared and timid behind his large glasses and a wild mane of mud-brown hair. "Gonta didn't mean to scare you."

"I ain't scared!" Kaito protests, then picks himself up and leans against the vibrating wall. Well, he may at least entertain himself with a conversation or some shit. 

"I see…" Gonta scratches his head, his brows coming together in an embarrassed frown. "Well, Gonta just thought you're not feeling well, since you were sitting outside the compartment…"

"Just wanted to get some fresh air," Kaito drawls out, jerking his head in the direction of a half-open window. "How about you, Gonta pal? You sick?"

"Wh— No, no, that's not it!" Gonta raises his big palms in denial. "Gonta isn't really used to trains, so he couldn't sleep, that's all… And then he saw, uh…"

"Kaito, Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars!" Kaito proclaims, thumping his chest with pride. Gonta's eyes go even wider, which looks sorta comical.

"Oh! That sounds wonderful, Kaito-san!"

"Sure it is!"

 

* * *

 

_ 24\. literally bumping into each other au; iruma/akamatsu _

 

"—yes, yes, sir, I'll be right back, I'm deeply sorry for the— Oh."

Kaede looks at the screen of her company phone and sighs, seeing that her boss has already disconnected. Great. There goes her hope for leaving on time. 

Damn Ibuki-chan. She was the one supposed to write the review, Kaede is sure of that, but, of dang course!, she forgot and Kaede took the blame. For the first, but last time.

In Ibuki-chan's defense, her writing was much better than Kaede's, smooth and funny — so maybe, if soda and pockys were involved, she'd agree to—

One second, Kaede's thinking about her work while speed walking down the street, on another second, she's sprawled out on the sidewalk, confused and aching in the chest area. And there's someone draped over her legs.

"What the fuck," that someone whines, turning out to be — oh. 

Turning out to be a really pretty lady, with slender limbs and well-balanced features.

"I'm so sorry!" Kaede pulls herself up, then offers her hand to the stranger, who accepts it with a derisive sniff.

"At least you got some fuckin' manners, eh?" She rests her fists on her hips and gives Kaede a long once-over, her lashes fluttering. "Still, watch the fuck where yer going."

"H-hey!" Kaede bristles, waving her index finger before the girl's eyes. "Same goes to you, you know?"

"Okay, okay, whatever!" She wilts, peering at Kaede underneath her long lashes, then shrugs awkwardly. "Listen, y-you could've killed me… At least take me for coffee to make that up…"

"Wh—" Kaede bites her tongue, then pulls out her pen and takes the girl's hand to scribble her phone number on her forearm, earning a surprised squeak. "S-sure. My name's Kaede, by the way."

"I'm Miu," she replies, staring at the sequence of numbers. "Nice to fuckin' meetcha, I guess."

"My break's almost over, so…" Kaede smiles a little. "See you later, Miu."

"B-bye…?"

Kaede's boss yells at her for being two minutes late, but does she care? Nope, not really.

 

* * *

 

_ 25\. librarian/avid reader au; celestia/pekoyama _

 

The girl is back. Peko narrows her eyes minutely, watching the twin drills move as their owner bends down to pick a book from a lower shelf, holding the hem of her gothic dress between two delicate, pale fingers.

Peko has been working as a librarian for what, a month?, and it is the — she checks her notes — twentieth time she sees the girl. A keen reader, she supposes and imagines the girl sitting under a dark kotatsu with a book in her slender hands, red eyes focused on a line, red lips forming a circle as an unavoidable plot twist happens...

"Excuse me?"

Peko blinks hurriedly, then clears her throat and says politely,

"Good afternoon. How can I help you?"

The girl's voice resembles the taste of milk, or maybe honey, as she giggles, and Peko purses her lips, feeling a blush growing on her cheeks.

"If you could check if there's this particular book I'm interested in, I'd be eternally grateful." 

Peko nods sharply and turns on the computer, accessing the inventory as quickly as possible. When the girl gives her the title, she types it in and frowns.

"It was borrowed yesterday. Sorry."

"Ah, such a shame..." The girl curls a strand of her black hair between her index and middle finger. "But what can I do."

"Uh." Peko coughs. "If you left me your number, I could call you after it's returned."

It's a bold move, but the girl doesn't mind. She pens a string of numbers in an elegant handwriting, then adds a name and hands the card to Peko.

"I'm Celestia," she murmurs, her eyelashes fluttering. 

"Peko." She doesn't add 'yama'.  Celestia must be the first name, so, if that is how the things are going...

Peko smiles gently, Celestia's hand pleasantly cool over hers.

 

* * *

 

_ 26\. sitting on the same park bench au; harukawa/yumeno _

 

Each evening, when she's going back home from the work, Himiko walks by a girl sitting on a park bench. Every evening, always the same bench, always the same expression of mild disdain. Sometimes she has her phone out, sometimes she watches the falling leaves. Sometimes she meets Himiko's wandering gaze.

Her eyes' scarlet burns brighter than the autumn's warm hues, pulling Himiko closer and closer, until, on the day of the first snowfall, she finds herself sitting by her and staring at the white flakes doing their best to cover the rich brown of the ground.

"Kinda beautiful, nyeh?" Himiko says after a while of contemplative silence. The girl shrugs.

"Maybe." Her voice rings higher than Himiko expected; she pulls the plaid scarf tighter around her neck. "Don't ask me."

"You're always lookin' at the trees though," Himiko points out in a flat tone. "I kinda thought yer some artist searching for inspiration."

"Then you thought wrong," the girl says without much heat. Himiko blinks up at her.

"What're you searching for, then?"

Once again, they fall silent, as the girl toys with the ends of her hair. A young, tall man jogs by, followed by a dog tied to its owner's belt with a stretchy pink leash. Himiko looks at him briefly, then focuses on the girl again, watches how she furrows her brow. 

"I wasn't searching for a conversation out of a weird indie movie, that's for sure," she ends up saying, smirking at Himiko. She has dimples. "Just a habit, I guess. I feel calm here."

"Haa…" Himiko wrinkles her nose. "Then, guess 'm sorry for interrupting you or something…"

"It's okay," the girl replies, her expression softening. "You can stay, if you want to."

"I don't have much else to do," Himiko says with a shrug. "Besides, 's not like you own this bench."

"Do you want to be killed?" the girl — seriously, Himiko has to find her name — asks. When her only answer is a flat look, she bites her lip and mutters out, "By the way, I'm Maki. Nice to meet you."

"My name is Himiko." She smiles back. "Nice to finally talk to you."

 

* * *

 

_ 27\. meeting at a support group au; chabashira/iruma _

 

"You know you can call me if anything comes up, right?" Kaede closes the car's door after herself and leans on it, fixing Tenko with a probing look. "You phone me, I show up here in five minutes and we go get tea, okay?"

"Tenko knows that, Kaede-san," Tenko replies with a forced little smile, put on more for Kaede's sake than her own. "But she'll try to stay there for as long as possible."

Nodding sharply, Kaede waves to her — after Tenko's quiet, shaky request, she doesn't try to touch her when she can — and gets back into the car. Tenko watches her drive away, then makes herself inhale, exhale, inhale — and walks into the building behind her.

The meeting is to start a bit late, so she has the time to sit down on a couch and watch other people slip into the room and take their places. Just like expected, most of them are girls, but she spots a few boys too. Her knuckles push on her skin as she tightens her grip on her knees (they're not him not him not—); her breathing speeds up.

"Oi." Someone clears their throat, and Tenko's head whips up to look at the girl her age, sour-faced and crossing her arms over her ample chest. "You new?"

"Y-yes!" Tenko almost shouts, getting to her feet and bowing. "Nice to meet you!"

"Yeah, yeah, same, but, listen, this is my fucking spot, yeah?" The girl relaxes a bit, resting her fists on her hips. "So move yer ass a little." 

"Your spot?" Tenko repeats in confusion, then furrows her brows. "Tenko doesn't see your name on it." But she moves a bit, so the stranger can sit beside her.

"Listen, newbie. Tenko. Whatever. " The girl rolls her eyes and surprises Tenko with a grin. "Y'know why I'm so gung-ho 'bout this fucking place? 'cause, when miss psychologist has everyone spout bullshit about how they're doing and how they're feeling, yadda yadda, she puts cookies—" she gestures to the table standing in front of their couch "—here."

"Cookies," Tenko says, a bit helplessly. The girl nods with a smirk.

"Cookies," she confirms.

 

* * *

 

_ 28\. knocking on the wrong door au; momota/amami _

 

A fresh cup of matcha — check. The new novel of Murakami picked up yesterday — check. That playlist created just for occasions like those — check. Letting out a happy little noise, Rantaro settles in his chair, turns on the music and, upon running his fingertips down the cover, opens the book. 

_ This will turn out to be quite a lovely afternoon,  _ he thinks to himself.

And then there's the harsh knocking on the front door. 

For a moment, Rantaro doesn't move, just sips his tea and hopes that this person will leave soon. But the knocking continues, harsh  _ rap rap rap  _ sounds that are so, so unpleasant to the ear. As a troubled sigh slips through his lips, Rantaro picks himself up from the oh so comfortable chair and strolls to the source of yet another fit of energetic knocking. He peeks through the eyehole and sees a rather irritated stranger about his age, giving off the vibe of a high-school jock. Despite this assessment, Rantaro does unlock the door — hey, he really doesn't feel like dealing with more of this cacophony.

"Hello," he says to the man. Who opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again to mutter:

"Fuck. You're not Maki."

"Well, I don't think so," Rantaro chuckles, leaning against the doorway and peering at the stranger from underneath his lashes. "And, as far as I know, no Maki lives here."

"Wh— Really?!" The man frowns. "Ya sure? It ain't Higuchi 202-1013?"

"Um— it's 202-1025, actually."

"Aw. Dammit." Scratching the back of his neck, the man explains, "I'm not from here, but Maki — my pal from the uni — is. She gave me this address and told me to meet her here… now?" He checks his watch and groans. "Now. Shit. Man, I'm late! She's gonna pull my fucking head off my shoulders…"

"Oh dear," Rantaro says, rather flatly, earning an embarrassed grin.

"Yeah, well. 'm really fucking sorry for disturbing you, dude, guess I'll go now—"

"One second." On a spur of the moment, Rantaro pulls out his golden marker pen from behind his ear and jots down his email on a scrap of paper he finds in the pocket of his hoodie, then he hands it to the man. "Write to me the next time you plan to get lost here, okay?"

 

* * *

 

_ 29\. going away to war au; ikusaba/maizono _

 

"Sayaka?" Mukuro whispers into the quiet stillness of the night. The darkness does not move with a reply, so they slide out from underneath the covers and sit on the edge of their bed, careful not to look at their girlfriend, only at their shaking knees.

Tomorrow, their mind sings, more as a feeling than actual sentence. You have until tomorrow.

Before they realize, they're in the kitchen, kneeling on cool tiles while pressing their palms against the wall, thoughts spinning and swirling. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Mukuro lets out a little choking sob, then raps their knuckles against the wallpaper, knowing damn too well to ask themself,  _ oh, why're you panicking, you went for a missions before, you fought and killed and almost was killed, and you were but a child back then, but the thought of blood and guts didn't make you so sick and scared and weak— _

"Mukuro," Sayaka says as she steps into the kitchen, the orange light of the streetlamp tinting her eyes purple. Each movement full of grace, she kneels down and pulls Mukuro towards herself, circling them with her arms and propping her chin on their head.

"I'm sorry," Mukuro says, settling into Sayaka's familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Sayaka replies. "You're fulfilling your duty. You're protecting our country and, by extension, me. So please don't be sorry." 

"I don't wanna go," Mukuro adds after a while of contemplative, shared silence. "I don't wanna leave you — leave our life — just to… be a soldier. Again." Sayaka lets out an acknowledging hum, and they continue, "I knew this may happen, that some war was inevitable, but I thought— that it'd happen later. When we'd be old, have wrinkles and thirty cats."

"Who says we won't get old together?" Sayaka tilts her head, and her eyes now glisten with purple tears, but she's smiling, too. "We will. You'll get through this war, you'll pull through—" she runs her fingertips over the unscarred skin of Mukuro's bared forearm "—and come back to me. As you always do."

Those words are hollow, Mukuro knows that, and yet they can't resist the hope found in the emptiness.

"I'll do my best," they say in the end.

 

* * *

 

_ 30\. tourist/knowledgeable local au; chabashira/akamatsu _

 

That was a bad idea.

A bad, bad idea.

Damn.

Without much hope, Kaede presses the power on button on her phone and doesn't even bother with a sigh when the screen stays black. Great. Tugging on the straps of her backpack, she looks around, trying to find any tip that'd allow her to get her bearings and leave this hellish train station. She comes away empty-handed and kinda bummed out, but, hey, it's alright! Puffing out a breath to give herself more courage, she stomps into the crowd and lets it carry her away.

Her slight panic notwithstanding, she finds herself enchanted with Tokyo, how loud and lovely it is, so dissimilar to her family village which she could circle during her evening run, where she knew each neighbor's name and state of affairs. Here - she isn't that girl who made a fool out of herself during a local recital, no, she's just another tourist, only to see the Tower and Roppongi, and then she'll-

She bumps into someone. The person squeaks, then, before Kaede can step away, grabs her and throws to the ground.

"Jesus!" Kaede shrieks, rolling to her side and giving the person - a slender, wide-eyed girl - a look. "What was that for, huh?!"

"Ah, Tenko's so sorry!" The girl, Tenko, bows quickly, but Kaede can see her trembling lip. "She didn't mean to!" She offers Kaede her hand and pulls her to her feet. "Are you alright?"

Upon a quick pat-down over her stuff - nothing's broken, good - she relaxes a bit, then nods sourly.

"Yes, I'm more or less fine. Still lost, but…"

"Lost?" Tenko tilts her head, then brightens up. "Oh, you're a tourist! Then, how about Tenko helps you a bit, to make up for her mistake? She's pretty knowledgeable about Tokyo!"

Kaede considers her for a moment, then shrugs and nods again, because, why the hell not. And, judging by the smile Tenko gives her, this has been the only good decision of today. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n
> 
>   * **cw: alcohol; vague abuse allusions; violence allusions;**
>   * comment/kudo if you read/liked o/
>   * 1: written for star @dunyazad bc kiiboy. i love me that kiiboy.
>   * 2: written for psy @psythewriter for his bday!!!
>   * 3: like above - happy birth, duck man
>   * 4: written for anonymous requester from ao3 <3 hope you enjoy it!
>   * 5: written for my friend kyo @kyochisas and his datemate for their anniversary!
>   * 6: i. don't remember who requested this. starie??? idk. but it's gay.
>   * 7: written for @deviedera, i hope i did this ship justice!!!
>   * 8: written for nico!!! dang i love kaitarou they've got some good ~*~aesthetics~*~
>   * 9: *looks at vee @ikuzonos* *pulls out a gun*
>   * 10: written for klara @fatiguedfern (i think it was for them???? hm). 
>   * i. don't actually have any prompts left for y'all to claim, tbh i wrote most of those drabbles during one night and then started working on the next chapter So. so. (but at least the next chapter is like. 60% done so it may go up soon enough)
> 



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * warnings in the end notes!!!
>   * beta-read by vee @ikuzonos, bless you hon <3
> 


_ 31\. prostitute/client au; togami/kirigiri _

 

"Wait." The woman crosses her pantyhose-clad legs, fixing Togami with a bemused look. "What do you mean by 'I'm actually asexual'? Why did you call me then?"

"Listen." Leaning back on his armchair, Togami takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose to ward off oncoming headache. Perhaps this hasn't been his brightest idea. "Paying you double the usual price if you just stay here for the night would be but a mere trifle to me — but, if you are so exultant with losing such opportunity, you can leave at any moment and stop having a sulk."

For a moment, there's silence. The woman stretches out on the other chair, all long limbs and subtle shapes underneath a knee-length, black dress.

"I'll stay," the woman says slowly, "if you tell me why I'm still here even though you're not going to fuck me."

"Triple the price and you won't ask that question again," Togami snaps, glaring daggers at the woman, who simply shrugs and twirls a lock of lavender hair around her gloved finger. 

"Fine by me," she drawls out, "Togami-san. I think I already know." Before he can lash out again, she states, "I'm here because of your father. You're such a good party, he probably says during parties, yet you're not interested in any of those high-end women. Such a shame. Find yourself someone, son, give me a heir. He's getting worried, so you bring in a random woman, claim her to be your secret mistress, then throw her out. Then do it again. Buy more time." She taps her lip, smiling. "Am I wrong?"

Togami's too stunned to do anything but shakes his head. The woman nods to herself, visibly pleased.

"I used to be a detective," she explains in a wry tone. "Years ago."

"You must have been an infuriatingly persistent one," Togami mutters, making her give him a lengthy look. 

"I suppose so," she echoes. 

 

* * *

 

_ 32\. doctor/companion au; ikusaba/maizono _

 

Watching the… the alien girl bustle about the console, flipping various switches and pressing random buttons, Mukuro furrows their brows. This… isn't what they expected.

"Huh?" Doctor looks at them, her lips quirking in not quite a smile. "Anything wrong?"

"I worked for UNIT," Mukuro blurts out, looking around the TARDIS and trying not to marvel at the sleek, shiny design — or the fact that they're in a spaceship! One that can travel in time! "The Japanese branch of it. I saw the photos of your previous… regenerations. And I didn't expect you to be…" They flap their hand, too keyed up to think of a good word. 

Young. A girl. Not white. This energetic.

_ Pretty. _

"Well," Doctor throws her head back and laughs, all blue eyes and blue hair and blue sundress. She doesn't look like a three thousand years old alien, not at all, more like a typical Japanese college student one could find window-shopping in Shibuya, or enjoying an iced coffee with her friends in Shinjuku. 

"Well?" Mukuro prompts, depositing their bag by the door and stepping closer to the console. 

"Being a Caucasian dude can get boring pretty fast," Doctor says, drawing back and turning on her heel to grab Mukuro's shoulder. She's… a bit shorter than them. And even prettier when closer up. "So does hanging around with Brits. Besides, seeing how people react when their expectations shatter upon seeing me always makes me laugh!" 

"I— I see." Mukuro fights off the creeping redness trying to show on their cheeks. "Anyway, where are we headed?"

"Oh," Doctor lets go of them and pokes one of the screens hanging around her ship's core. She hums a bit, and her voice is just as sweet as her— No, Mukuro, don't go there. You know how it always ends. "Dunno. Where do you wanna go?"

The question that always is asked. Two beings, a human and a Time Lord, about to go for an adventure. So this is really happening. None of the training prepared Mukuro for that, but they decide not to get more anxious and return the smile.

And then they answer.

 

* * *

 

_ 33\. celebrity/fan au; ikusaba/maizono _

 

"I'm holding this for a friend!"

Damn. Doesn't look like Naegi believed them, judging by the overtly pleasant smile he's giving Mukuro as he hand them Sayaka's CD they dropped. And then… he actually starts looking a bit thoughtful. Uh-oh.

"You know what, Ikusaba-kun?" he says slowly. "I actually know Maizono-san in person."

"What."

"M-mm!" Naegi nods, making this puppy-dog face of his that everyone in their study group adores (which is often utilized by Kuwata to get notes and have Kirigiri do everyone's homework). "We went to the same middle school, then to a high school as well!"

"What."

"I think…" he whips out his phone, "I think I still have her number saved! Gosh, we haven't gone out for a coffee in ages… Aha, I hope she's not mad at me for that…"

"I'm holding this for a friend," Mukuro repeats weakly, to which they only get a hum of affirmation. "B-besides," they collect themself, "what do you mean, you know the most popular Japanese singer  _ in person?!  _ Naegi, what the—"

"Just my luck," Naegi grins, reminding Mukuro of how yesterday he dropped a carton of milk on his foot and made it explode all over the kitchen. He types out a message and pockets the phone. "If you want to, you can go with me and meet her."

"But I don't like her music," Mukuro says without much conviction and drops to a creaky couch, still gripping the CD. Naegi joins them and kicks his legs, humming to himself. "Oh! Is that 'False City Child'?! I—" Naegi raises his brow with an awkward smile "—I'm so… sick of this song?"

"Ikusaba-kun," Naegi sing-songs, "it's okay for you to like pop music, you know?"

"Okay," Mukuro grumbles, crossing their arms over their chest.

"And to like Maizono-san."

"I haven't even met her!"

"Yet?"

Mukuro stares at Naegi. Naegi looks away, coughing.

"Yet," Mukuro says in the end.

 

* * *

 

_ 34\. meeting at a masquerade ball au; munakata/yukizome _

 

It's Togami's fault, Kyosuke decides. The younger man is nowhere in his vicinity, so blaming him is entirely feasible. After all, if it weren't for his subtle nagging, Kyosuke would decline the invitation to the masquerade ball and stay at home with his two cats and a charmingly high pile of paperwork. But here he is now. In a tight suit and itchy mask. Because Togami went to Venice last month, during the carnival, and got inspired. And decided to throw a party. And requested the presence of his childhood friend. 

Kyosuke sighs tiredly and sips on his champagne, watching the dance floor without much interest. 

"Hello there!" 

He nearly spills the liquor onto himself. The ginger woman who has suddenly appeared by his side presses her hand to her wine-red lips. The sequins on her green mask catch the dim lights of the room and shine.

"Oh, sorry," she giggles. "I didn't mean to surprise you; I just wanted to say hi." 

Kyosuke shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile.

"Don't worry about it. Nothing has happened in the end."

"Still..." The woman scratches her cheek. "You kind of looked a bit lonely, standing here by yourself, so I thought, hey, why shouldn't I talk to this nice guy? And... yeah..." She looks a bit dejected. "Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, really." Kyosuke puts the glass on the table beside them and, before he can think about it, reaches out to brush his fingers against the woman's bare arm. "Truth be told, I'm glad you decided to talk to me, Miss...?"

"Miss." The woman playfully nudges him. "I can tell you my name after midnight. Like in Cinderella!" 

"I don't think that's how it went," Kyosuke notices flatly, but without dropping his smirk. "But this version won't meet my disagreement."

"Okay, okay..." Touching his hand, the woman flutters her dark, long eyelashes at him. "But can we dance?"

"With pleasure." 

 

* * *

 

_ 35\. one of them trying to get the other one off of drugs au; naegi/togami _

 

"Good morning," Makoto lifts his gaze off the papers cluttering his desks and allows himself a small smile, "Togami-san. You look better."

"I always look good," Togami-san scoffs, but Makoto notices how he self-consciously raises his hand to leaf through his, now cut short, hair. "But... your effort to compliment me, even though unquestionably unnecessary, won't be forgotten."

Makoto simply shakes his head and points to the chair by his desk, instead of elaborating — but he'll do it later. After all, it's important to remind Togami-san how far he's come.

The day he started working here, in this small, private rehab center, his boss told him not to get emotionally attached. Makoto tried his best, okay, but then in walked this tall, terribly thin young man with a mop of dirty blond hair and his back hunched as if he was ready to bolt, and—

Yeah. Don't get attached.

Makoto breathes out, letting go of those memories, and turns the page in his notebook to a clear one. Clicking his pen on, he starts,

"So, how did your week go?"

"Bearable." Togami-san crosses his legs. "As you recommended, I stayed at work only for ten hours." Before Naegi can furrow his brows, he adds, "Only during work days, don't get offended. And I got about four hours of sleep each day, remembered to eat and take medications, had my hair cut..." He breaks off. Makoto keeps his face passive, but a piece of him already knows.

"Did anything happen that you would like to tell me about?" he asks calmly, jotting his insights down, just to give his hands something to do.

"There was a... a dream." Togami-san pinches the bridge of his nose. "I dreamed about contacting this particular acquaintance of mine, and. And I bought a hit." He shrugs. "It was just a dream, though."

Makoto nods, but something in his heart shrieks. The world feels really unjust.

 

* * *

 

_ 36\. living in a society where their love is taboo au; shirogane/harukawa _

 

When she hears the familiar whistles coming from the garden, Tsumugi steps away from the window and starts counting to ten. When she reaches seven, Maki's already done climbing the vine and is pulling herself inside.

"Hi," is all Tsumugi manages to say before Maki grabs onto the front of her nightshirt and pulls her for a kiss full of heat and anger. Tsumugi gasps, wrapping her arms around Maki's waist and falling into the familiar rhythm, feeling her girlfriend's lips go from cold to pleasantly warm with each second. Moving in tandem, never letting go of each other, they stumble back and fall onto Tsumugi's bed, where they press even closer to each other.

"Missed you," Maki whispers hoarsely when she pulls away, then shifts until they're lying side by side. The darkness of the night obscures her eyes, but Tsumugi imagines them to burn with anguish. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Tsumugi murmurs back, running her fingertips over Maki's side. "And my parents were saying bad things about yours, and I almost told them about us."

"Then they have something in common with mine," Maki says with muffled down harshness as she rests her hand on Tsumugi's hip. "They were talking so much crap, I was this close to throwing stuff at them."

"Two more years," Tsumugi reminds her softly, "just two more years and we can leave. Study in the same city, get a small apartment and fill it with potted plants and cute decorations."

"I know, 'mugi." Maki sighs and leans in to claim another kiss. Tsumugi can feel her frown. "It just isn't fair," she mutters without breaking away. "If our parents didn't hate each other to such fucking extent, we wouldn't have to sneak around."

"It's a bit romantic," Tsumugi says helplessly. "I saw an anime with a similar motif — an unpopular geisha and a disgraced samurai, meeting under the cover of Kyoto night to talk about…" She trails off and huffs. "Sorry. I forget you're not interested in—"

"No, it's fine," Maki cuts her off in a rushed whisper. "I love listening to you talk."

Barely holding back an embarrassed giggle, Tsumugi presses a kiss to Maki's nose and then continues telling her about this anime. 

A part of her brain thinks,  _ maybe we do have a chance of getting a happy end too. _

 

* * *

 

_ 37\. meeting in prison au; ouma&hoshi _

 

Trying not to flinch as the guard locks the door behind him, Ryoma turns on his heel and eyes his new roommate (god, what an euphemism) up and down. 

Welp. He surely didn't expect to end up with a kid. 

"Hi there!" the kid says with a bright grin, hopping off his bunk and folding his hands behind his back as he meets Ryoma's stare head-on. "Nice to meet you, stranger-chan!"

"It's Hoshi," Ryoma says gruffly, setting his stuff on the other bed and trying not to imagine how living with this brat will look like. "Sorry, but I ain't gonna say it's nice to meet you to or some shit."

"Wait, wait wait wait." The kid chuckles. "You really believed me? Gosh, how dumb are you! It's not nice to meet you at all, geez, we're in prison!" Ryoma turns back to him just in time to see him throw his arms out, still smiling like a five-year old on Christmas. 

"Shut up," Ryoma says without much heat, shaking his head and climbing onto the cot. He leans against the wall, indignantly noticing how he ends up with his feet dangling in the air, barely over the edge of the crunchy mattress. 

"Rude." The kid sits on his own bed, twirling the lock of his violet hair between his fingers. "And you didn't even bother asking me what's my name, why are you here, all that cliche stuff… Geez, your poor mother, having brought up such impolite child!" His eyes well up with undoubtedly fake tears. Ryoma sighs.

"My ma's dead," he grunts, making the kid raise his brow. "But whatever. What's your name. Why're you here." This kid prolly won't give him a break if he stays silent, Ryoma figures.

"There we go!" The kid grins again, tears forgotten. "I'm Kokichi Ouma, and I'm here because — woops, confidential!" He presses a finger to his lips and gives Ryoma a wink. "Was it that hard, Hoshi-chan?"

 

* * *

 

_ 38\. cop/person getting a speeding ticket au; chabashira/iruma _

 

"Wee-woo, wee-woo," Miu parrots back, glaring at the police car, then pulls over, opens the door of her ol' faithful toyota and swings herself out. "Waddup?"

"Good morning, Miss," the policewoman — about Miu's age, has brown twintails sticking out from underneath her cap, long, muscular limbs, nine outta ten — says in a polite voice. "I'm officer Chabashira of Tokyo Police Department. Do you know how fast were you going?"

"You tell me," Miu drawls out, rubbing her brow. That's what you're supposed to say when you're accused of speeding, right? Don't make yourself seem guilty, because they might be lying and not know how fast you were—

"Thirteen kilometers per hour over the speed limit," the girl replies promptly, raising her brow. "Your ID and your driving licence, please."

Dammit. How long has it been since she got it? A month? And she already fucked up. Grimacing, Miu produces the documents and hands them to the girl — Chabashira, was it? Nice surname. Kinda poetic or some shit.

"Fucking shit, man," she grumbles to herself. Bad time to be gay, huh. Chabashira gives her a confused look over the ticket she's writing, then breaks out in a smile. Fuck. She has dimples. Who allowed that?!

"I'm really sorry, Iruma-san," she says, "but consider this a lesson for the future."

"A very expensive lesson, this one," Miu grumbles, making Chabashira chuckle a bit, and accepts the ticket. Nine thousand yen, sheesh. "Could've bought a dinner instead of it. Fuck, I'd buy you a dinner."

"W-well." Chabashira's eyes get really bright all of the sudden. "How about we first exchange phone numbers?"

Grinning a bit (and totally not blushing, for fuck's sake!), Miu whips out her cell and puts in Chabashira's — Tenko's digits. All in all, paying nine grand for getting to know a cute girl may not be that bad of a deal.

 

* * *

 

_ 39\. long distance relationship au; saihara/ouma _

 

Less than a second after he accepts the video call, Shuichi almost flinches when he hears a familiar voice cry out, "Shuichi-chan!"

"Hi there, Kokichi," he replies, giving his partner a small smile. Kokichi returns it, bouncing a bit in their chair. "How are you?"

"Terrible! Absolutely terrible!" Jutting out their lower lip, Kokichi sighs through their nose. "My beloved Shu-chan is so far away, so how can I be good?"

"Two more weeks?" Shuichi says meekly, causing Kokichi to brighten up minutely. Good. "Two more weeks," he says with more conviction, "and we'll finally see each other, remember?"

"Two weeks is fourteen days is three hundred thirty six hours is lotta minutes, and a minute lasts for so long, Shu-chan…" Kokichi leans away from their web camera so only the tip of their purple-haired head is visible. "But at least," they straighten up with a smile so dazzling Shuichi feels compelled to reduce the screen brightness, "it's not three weeks, or a month!"

"That's the spirit." Holding onto his laptop, Shuichi moves to the kitchen where he sets it on a counter and opens the fridge. "Want a drink?"

Kokichi rolls their eyes at the joke — yeah, Shuichi used it before, about every other call, but hey, he thinks it's funny. Besides, Kokichi's exasperated expression is adorable. All of Kokichi is adorable, and Shuichi can't wait to hold their hand or ruffle their hair. 

God, he's so in love.

"Shu-chan's making a fool of himself," Kokichi declares as Shuichi cracks open a can of soda. "And for every time he does that, he's obliged to get me a cupcake."

"That'll be a lot of cupcakes," Shuichi notes.

"Then a dress! Cute and ruffly, so I'd look like an angel."

"You already do though."

"Jeez, you're the worst!" Kokichi sticks their tongue out. "The literal worst."

Shuichi laughs, giving the pixelated image of his partner a warm, bright grin. 

Two more weeks.

 

* * *

 

_ 40\. exes meeting again after not speaking for years au; saihara/momota _

 

"Yo!"

That voice… Shuichi squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then turns on his heel and forces out a wobbly little smile.

"Hi there, K— M-momota-kun."

"Yo," Kaito repeats, with less enthusiasm this time. "So I wasn't wrong, huh. It is you." Something in the atmosphere changes, and Shuichi tightens his grip on the can of green peas.

The spacious hall of the supermarket feels… cramped, now, as if the shelves were crowding towards him, locking him, cutting off his escape. Dammit. He takes a long, deep breath to calm down his fluttering heart; after he's no longer on the brink of a panic attack, and the silence has gotten awkward, he decides to speak up.

"It's a surprise to see you, Momota-kun." 

"Yeah, same." Kaito tilts his head. "How long has it's been? Ten years?"

"Around that," Shuichi says, barely keeping out the meekness out of his voice. Kaito hums, leaning on the shelf behind him and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Kinda thought you were dead or something." His tone is bitter, so bitter, but that's Kaito alright, wearing his heart on his sleeve, guess that didn't change. "You dropped out of sight basically without a word, my dude..."

There are things, so many things Shuichi could (should?) tell him— but all he does is shrug.

"Sorry about that."

"...even though I really thought we had something special, yanno." Kaito purses his lips, and the top one is jutting out, just a bit, and Shuichi flinches when the memory of how it felt to have those lips on his hits him. 

He shakes his head, then puts the can into his shopping basket and gives Kaito another smile. It's weak, hardly there, just a small pull of his muscles, but it's a sincere smile.

"I also thought so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n
> 
>   * **cw: sex discussion; drugs abuse discussion; pda.**
>   * **comment/kudo if you read/liked!!!**
>   * 1: listen. i love togiri.
>   * 2: yes i watch doctor who and i like it .(also!!! the thirteenth doc is finally not a guy!!! took them long fucking enough).
>   * 3: iii think vee requested this? maybe. probably. but hey, it ain't like they need to speak up to make me write ikuzono.
>   * 4: requested by kyo @kyochisas, ily m'dude.
>   * 5: requested by my bro szeh @szeherezadaa who knows i'm an angst fucker.
>   * 6: mmm i don't remember if it was a request or no... fufu. but shiromaki is so fucking good.
>   * 7: requested by klara @fatiguedfern, i hope i did this prompt justice!
>   * 8: once again, requested by klara. good god, writing miu is hard.
>   * 9: written for florian @honebami, those fluffy boys are so cute...
>   * 10: that was my first saimota _ever_. and it was pretty fun. 
> 



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * **warnings in the end notes!**
>   * beta'ed by vee @ikuzonos, thank you so much! 
>   * V3 CHAPTER FOUR SPOILERS IN THE 5TH DRABBLE.
> 


_41\. ghost/living person au; munakata/yukizome_

 

And, at once, the pain stops. The haze clears from her mind. The despair—

The despair.

Chisa sits up and looks around frantically, her heart beating like a war march—

Her heart? She presses a hand to her chest and realizes she doesn't have any pulse. None at all. Her lips tremble as it hits her.

"Kyosuke..." she whispers and jumps off the table (there's no sound when her heels hit the ground) to come carefully to his sleeping form. He's sprawled out on the floor, one hand still reaching out for— for her body.

Geez, Chisa muses idly, dealing with your own death shouldn't be that easy. But then she recalls that awful, sickly passion that has been cloying her thoughts for the past two-three years, and, yeah, it was kind of like— like being dead.

Sitting on the balls of her feet, Chisa looks around the room. Some people are already stirring awake, Sakakura-kun being one of them. At least the— her. Her body isn't that visible, draped on the chandelier — but the chain will give out, break and—

Kyosuke's eyelids flutter open. Chisa's thoughts rip away from the gory imagery of her corpse splashing down, and she calls in vain, Kyosuke, Kyosuke, I'm here, can you hear me? I'm here, I'm back here. Monokuma's irritating croons seem to come from a great distance, but, oh god, another killing game? But, a nauseating intrusive thought whispers, if he dies, we'll meet again, but what about Juzo? What about the other of her boys? No, Kyosuke cannot join her. Not so soon. But she calls for him again.

For a moment, he freezes on his feet, and Chisa bites her lip, hoping as hard as she can manage—

Their eyes meet. Only for a second.

He can see me, Chisa thinks. He can.

And then—

And then he starts looking around, asking if anyone saw her, and the chain breaks.

 

* * *

 

_42\. star-crossed lovers au; shirogane/yumeno_

 

The way Himiko looks down is enough of an answer. Exhaling shakily, Tsumugi reaches out to take her girlfriend's hand and, despite herself, speaks.

"So you're not coming back."

"Nah." Himiko's short little fingers are shivering in Tsumugi's grip, kind of like a small, hairless animal filled with fear. "Sorry about that."

"It's—" Tsumugi pulls away and stands up, taking a few steps away from Himiko's bed. "One second. I just—"

Before she realizes, she's embracing herself, wrapping her arms around her torso and _squeezing_ , just like she did before— before meeting Himiko. Only three weeks ago. Before meeting her, and falling in love in with her, and— and confessing, only yesterday, just to find out that she's— she's—

"'mugi?"

"G-give me a—" Tsumugi gags on her own voice, vaguely disgusted by how pathetic it sounds.

It's— it's not fair, it's so not fair that Himiko's leaving, never returning to Japan, going away because her father has to move to America, and she said it herself, that he doesn't want her to keep in touch with her friends, with— with Tsumugi, who loves, loves, loves, and— It's not fair.

Before she can get a grip on herself, her legs give out and Tsumugi collapses onto the soft carpet. Himiko's instantly by her side, she's a warm and tiny presence pressed to her side, tugging on her forearms.

"Sorry," she says. "I'm so sorry..." She makes that little 'nyeh' noise in the back of her throat, which doesn't sound as cute as it always did. "I'm gonna, like, sue someone, the fate or, dunno, God..."

"The f-fate?" Tsumugi repeats. "What does it have to do with— with your departure?"

"Haa..." Himiko wriggles closer, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder and resting her hands on her lap. "Dunno. Yer the anime expert, don't they often pull out that 'fate sucks when you love' motif or something?"

To that, Tsumugi can only nod. She guesses that, if she were to speak up, she'd say something like 'I love you too', and— and it's both too early and too late for that.

 

* * *

 

_43\. falling in love with their best friend’s partner au; toujo/chabashira_

 

It's undeniably foolish of her, Kirumi thinks to herself when she busies herself with preparing tea, Tenko's laugh reaching her from the room behind her back. Her fingers tighten on the box of matcha leaves. Stop this inanity, she tells herself as the kettle — an old fashioned one she got from Amami — whistles. A cloud of steam hangs above the stove, thick and quite pleasing to the eye.

"Yumeno-chan—" Tenko whines playfully, and Kirumi bites down on her lip, hard. Cease with this, she repeats. Don't let your mind be a traitor. Do not do this to Yumeno-san. You're her best friend, you mustn't—

"Gee, calm down," the girl in question mutters tiredly. "It was the most elementary of card tricks, how come thou still get stupefied by it?"

It's probably the disappearing ace trick, Kirumi muses as she pours the boiling water into the porcelain cups she took from her family house when moving out. Ah, such an enjoyable feat, this one. No wonder Tenko loves it. Maybe, if Kirumi were to learn it—

Ah. But she's no Yumeno-san, with her casual determination and unspoiled youth. She's but a subdued maid with a pathetic crush on her best friend's girlfriend. How selfish of her. She sets the cups on the tray and, mindful of her carefully neutral smile, walks into the living room where Tenko holds onto Himiko's coat. Her wavy hair streams down her back, and when she raises her sharp green eyes to meet Kirumi's, her expression speaks of impersonal gratitude.

Isn't it strange, to be so close to loving someone who remembers your name simply because of their politeness? Setting the tray down and giving Tenko a small, measured smile, Kirumi dismisses this thought and simply says,

"Yumeno-san told me you like cherry matcha."

"I— I do!" Tenko grins. It's like the sunrise. "Thank you, Toujo-san."

"It wasn't any problem."

Except — it kind of was.

 

* * *

 

_44\. one of them being diagnosed with a terminal illness au; koizumi/kuwata_

 

Don't look him in the eye. Don't notice how visible his cheekbones have become. Just look at his hands, clasped on the dinner table.

They're shaking.

Mahiru takes a deep breath. Then another. To stifle down the anger, the fear, the hurt, and this... this weird sense of betrayal.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she forces out. Leon flinches a bit, she sees it out of the corner of her eye. "We've been together for ten years, and you acted like an absolute idiot and didn't tell me."

"Sorry," Leon says. He unfolds his hands and raises one to rest it on Mahiru's. "I was dumb, I know, I know, I should've told you right as I got the diagnosis, but, hey, no use crying over spilled water, now you know, and it's gonna be—"

"It's not gonna be okay!" Mahiru erupts, the fury finally bursting out of her, and _god,_ why didn't he tell her?! "You have, what, three months left, and you only decided to inform me now? Leon, I love you, but this is beyond the pale!" The ire leaves her as quickly as it overtook her. "Besides, it's spilled milk. Not. Not water."

"Geez," Leon mutters, ruffling his hair. "Sorry, sweetheart. You had so much stuff to worry about, so... Yeah." He gives her the same sheepish grin as all those years back then. When he was just her underclassman, flirting with her awkwardly and trying to serenade her through soundproof doors. Raving about how they fit together. Gosh, she hated his rambling, and now she heard it again, but this time Leon didn't tell her about the perfect date spot, but about the fact he—

He's going to.

Ah, shit. Mahiru's eyes water and, before she can realize, Leon has stood up and looped his arms around her, crouching by her chair and holding her.

"You idiot," Mahiru chokes out. He doesn't reply, just presses an absent kiss to her damp cheek.

 

* * *

 

_45\. pretending to hate each other au; chabashira/iruma_

 

"That's exactly why—"

"Oh, shut up, Chabashitty!" Miu bangs her fist on the table, making Yumeno jolt awake from her nap. "You and your fucking— yeah! Everything 'bout you pisses the hell outta me! _Everything,_ yeah?!"

"Tenko is not crass enough to say that she hates you back, Iruma-san," Tenko says coldly, "but you really are making her think to make you an exception."

"Geez, what's going on?" Momota enters the cafeteria, scratching the back of his neck in confusion. "Ya two fighting again or fucking what?"

"Fucking what, Momodick," Miu sneers, then walks out of the room and back into her dorm. There, she calms her breath and counts to one hundred. Before she reaches ninety-four, there's a knock on the door, a pause, then two knocks. Miu gets up from her bed and opens up to let Tenko in — she barely has the time to lock it behind her before she's getting crushed by the strong arms.

"Jeez, Ten," Miu wheezes, hugging her girlfriend back. "You okay there?"

"No," Tenko says without raising her head. So her breath tickles Miu's bared neck. Fucking shit, this shouldn't be as hot as it is. "Tenko is... growing weary of the charade."

Yeah. Fucking pretense to keep up — when you're in love, and your crush likes you back, and a murderous bear wants you and your other friends to kill each other, it's better to pretend to hate each other's guts so no one will use one of you against the other. That's the gist of it, Miu guesses. Her embrace on Tenko grows tighter.

"Guess I should make us a rocket, whaddya think?" she says into Tenko's hair as she's guiding her towards the sofa where they lie down, still holding each other. "We'd get Momodick to pilot it, and we'd fly outta this shithole."

Tenko sniffles a bit. "And neither of us would have to say such horrible things ever again."

Miu wilts a bit. "Shit, did I hurt you? God, fuck, Ten, I'm so—"

"No, no you didn't!" Tenko interjects, finally looking up. "But Tenko was worried that _she_ did."

"Nah," Miu says, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend's temple. "You never could."

(But she does, does hurt her, but that doesn't last long before Miu dies too).

 

* * *

 

_46\. nanny/single parent au; togami/naegi_

 

"I'm back," Togami calls as he slips off the shoes and tiptoes into the living room, listening intently to any potential response. When he finds the room empty and silent, he can't help but grimace. Not in anxiety, though, it's still too early for that, yet he feels perplexed by Naegi not appearing instantly by his side with Shuichi's hand in his. Wrinkling his nose thoughtfully, Togami gingerly sets his briefcase down and enters his son's bedroom to be instantly attacked by the familiar scent of old books and graphite pencils. Meaning — his oh-so-shy-and-polite boy managed to talk his nanny into drafting yet another, as Shuichi calls them with a hint of pride, detective novel. Hah. He damn well took after his mother.

However, right now he doesn't look like her cocky self, oh no — he's curled up on his bed, blanket kicked off his feet and a small frown on his face as he breathes rhythmically, deep in sleep. His hand is brushing Naegi's, who is sitting by his bedside with closed eyes and relaxed expression. Feeling a small, private smile curl his lips, Togami reaches out to readjust the covers on his son, then shakes Naegi's arm. The boy startles awake.

"Oh— Oh." He glances over at Shuichi and, when the boy doesn't stir, gets to his feet to bow awkwardly. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispers apologetically. His cheeks turn pink.

"If that's the last time for you to nap during your job," Togami gives him a stern look, "feel free to shut your mouth and follow me."

In the kitchen he gets to preparing tea; out of the corner of his eye, he sees Naegi open the cupboard and grab the container of Togami's favorite herbal tea.

"Good choice."

Naegi gives him a quizzical look, then chuckles a bit.

"Yeah, well, Shuichi told me where you keep tea a few weeks ago when he wanted a cup, and I noticed that there's always a new pack of this brand," he shakes the box, "at least once per week. And it's a bitter one, so it has to be yours."

Hell. How did this boy know Togami finds such deducing very, uh, hot? He has to call Asahina and gossip.

But, right now, he flashes Naegi an approving grin.

 

* * *

 

_47\. meeting at a festival au; shirogane/akamatsu_

 

The night seems to be laced with cotton candy and the warm glow of lanterns. Tsumugi breathes in the warm air, then tugs on her _obi_ and steps closer towards the nearest cherry blossom tree. The bright pink petals contrast with the deep darkness of the sky in a way that makes Tsumugi's fingers itch for a needle and rolls of fabric; she'd make a dress in a palette _just like this_ and put it on when cosplaying— Hm. Who'd fit such outfit? She shakes her head, enjoying how her hair, pulled into a bun, wiggles, and plucks out her phone, tucked in her sash, to take a photo.

When she takes a tiny step back to catch more petals into the frame, she bumps into someone (who wasn't there before! Not like she checked, but hey!) and lets out a little gasp in shock, instantly turning on her heel, already opening her mouth to apologize — and freezes.

"Oh, are you okay?" The girl — blonde hair, natural; blushy cheeks; kimono the color of red wine — narrows her eyes. "I mean, watch where you're going, but…" She doesn't finish, instead gives Tsumugi a little smile.

Heck. Her turn to speak. "Yes— Yes! I'm okay," she blurts out, gripping onto her phone. "Sorry! I didn't mean to— Uh! Sorry."

"Geez, it's fine!" the girl says, without dropping her smile. "I wasn't watching either, so I apologize too." Her eyes, Tsumugi notices, are the color of sakura. Then she notices the girl has stepped closer, and her mouth goes dry. Damn. This lesbianism thing was much easier before moving to Tokyo, which was really brimming with beautiful women. "By the way, if we're already talking… Are you, uh, alone?"

"Y-yeah, I am... " Tsumugi smiles sheepishly. "I know it doesn't say anything good about me."

"I'm here by myself too," the blonde chuckles, "so that's why I'm asking. So… Mind if I join you?" When Tsumugi shakes her head, the girl bows a little. "I'm Kaede."

"Tsumugi," Tsumugi says, a bit flustered by her blunder — but Kaede doesn't seem to mind as she leads the two of them to a stand with takoyaki.

Some time later, she also doesn't mind wearing a dress Tsumugi made just for her.

 

* * *

 

_48\. meeting again at a high school reunion au; saihara/akamatsu_

 

"—ichi? Shuichi!"

Turning on his heel and pocketing his phone, Shuichi tilts his head as he's trying to pinpoint the person calling him — and smiles.

_Kaede._

"Hi there, Akamatsu-san," he says lightly when the woman reaches him, then accepts the hug she gives him. She smells like ink and good perfume; when they pull away, he holds onto her forearms to get a good look at her. "Wow," he comments. She laughs and bats his hand away, then reaches out for a glass of punch, standing on the table behind Shuichi.

"Same goes to you," Kaede adds after taking a sip, her smile dulling a bit. "You've… really changed during those ten years."

"Thanks." Shuichi rubs his neck, trying not to frown. "So did you."

Ten years, huh?

He doesn't know what he's supposed to say now, or if it's Kaede's turn, so they look at each other for a while — until Kaede shakes her head with a wry smile.

"Let's cut it to the chase, okay?" He nods, adjusting his tie. "You know what, Shuichi, when I saw you, I did think about asking you about… you know." She makes a vague gesture, a shake of her hand to convey ten years of fading friendship, then shrugs. "But I suppose that's just how life goes, right?"

"Well," Shuichi says haplessly. "I— that may be it. But it didn't go— right."

"You think so?" Kaede raises her brow. When he nods, she reaches out to run her fingers down his sleeve. In the wine-red dress, she's more radiant than an exploding galaxy. "Then I'm glad we agree." She touches his wrist. It's all too familiar.

"So," Shuichi pointedly eyes the other students, busy pleasantly talking with each other — except Kaito and Kokichi-kun, who are apparently trying to outsnark each other. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Her tone is light when she says, "We gotta catch up."

 

* * *

 

_49\. boss/intern au; saihara/akamatsu_

 

Look left. Look right. The hallway is empty. No one can see her.

Kaede takes a deep breath, lets it out, then delivers the damned vending machine a swift kick.

"A-Akamatsu-san?"

Oh. Oh, whoops. Already preparing an explanation on 'why I lost my internship after a week', she turns to Saihara-san and gives him a scared smile. Her boss — gosh, it's so weird to call him that; he's what, three years older than her? — blinks back, then opens his mouth. Well. Here comes the chewing out.

"Akamatsu-san, did that blasted thing eat your money too?"

What. "Yes?" Kaede knits her brows, befuddled. "And what do you mean, too? It took yours?"

Saihara-san nods, then makes a 'follow me' gesture at her, and, well, Kaede does follow him. He's her boss, after all, the junior partner in the detective agency where she has her internship as an assistant slash secretary slash receptionist. She swallows down the anxiety when she realizes they're headed for his office. Great.

They step inside and Kaede prepares herself. Now comes the telling off. But maybe she can tell him she slept only three hours yesterday, and seeing that the chance of getting coffee has dropped down to null made her a bit—

"Akamatsu-san, do you prefer black or white?"

Huh? "Excuse me?" Kaede pulls out of her reverie and notices that Saihara-san is fiddling with a coffee maker. "I thought—"

"That I would reprimand you for attacking the vending machine?" He looks at her with a self-deprecating smile. "Akamatsu-san, I still remember being your age."

"You're not that older!" Kaede points out, flushing, then adds, "Black, please."

"Alright, give me a moment. Meanwhile, feel free to take a seat."

Soon enough, there's a steaming cup of goodness in front of her. Saihara-san sits down behind his desk, overflowing with papers, and takes a sip from his own cup, giving her a expectant gaze. Well. Kaede tastes her own coffee and breaks out in a smile.

"Much better than the vending machine one. Thank you so much, Saihara-san!"

"Ah, don't mention it." He smiles back at her.

 

* * *

 

_50\. going through a divorce au; munakata/yukizome_

 

Hearing (familiar) footsteps, Kyosuke pockets his phone and straightens up with deliberate

slowness, and then, when the (once comforting) click-clack of flat shoes stops just a few meters to his left, he says, impassively polite,

"Good afternoon, Chisa."

"Good afternoon, Kyosuke." Her (no longer beloved) voice is just as indifferent, and when he sneaks a glance in her direction, she's skimming the papers she brought with herself.

A few minutes pass. Kyosuke drums his fingers over his knee, waiting for something — anything — to happen, for the penny to finally drop.

"How was your week," she says after another while, still sounding dispassionate, almost bored.

"It was alright." Kyosuke checks his watch — ten minutes until the trial — and thinks about the things that he once would elaborate on. About his students and their antics, and about a lovely bouquet he'd once buy and give to her. He thinks about one pillow and one blanket on a double bed, and the winter-like stillness of quiet early mornings.

He doesn't speak a word about it.

"Mm," Chisa hums. "Good to hear that." She sits down on the other side of the corridor and, putting her purse on the seat nearby her, gives him a placid smile. Her eyes, however, brighten in something that doesn't resemble joy. "I'm glad to see you're doing well."

Her voice is still firm, but there's no life behind this steel. It's like an empty gift bag. Kyosuke fixedly looks at the shiny tile floor of the courthouse.

"Thank you," he manages.

Wordlessly, Chisa gets up and goes to the bathroom. Kyosuke watches her go and, when she disappears from his sight, has to dab at his eye with a handkerchief.

She returns, seeming more composed, just in time for the whole ordeal to begin. And, just like Kyosuke, she doesn't have a lawyer. After all, it's just a formality. Their divorce trial takes less than two hours. After it ends, Kyosuke lingers by the doorway, hands in his pockets, and watches Chisa leave.

But it's okay. That's just what had to happen.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n
> 
>   * **cw: canonical character death; vague gore mention; terminal illness discussion; alcohol.**
>   * **comment/kudo if you read/liked, please!** validation is always very much welcome in this soniagiris household! c;
>   * wheesh, can't believe it's over now. seven months of work, huh, and i'm done. it was fun, to be honest. perhaps i'll do something like this again in the future.
>   * 1: written for szeh @szeherezadaa, who really should stop feeding me angst.
>   * 2: written for vee, who got me into himiko/shirogane/maki shipping hell. good job, kid.
>   * 3: written for kyo @kyochisas! if it weren't for him, i'd never consider this ship before - but, hey, it's interesting.
>   * 4: written for psy @psythewriter, their koiwata agenda is a very crucial one.
>   * 5: written for tenko's birthday! happy birth, ya big lesbian. (also, i'm pretty sure someone requested this, but i. can't remember. good job, me).
>   * 6: written for tay @rockint765. naegami... is a good ship. (by the way, tay and i run a naegami tumblr blog, [check it out!](i-believe-in-naegami.tumblr.com))
>   * 7: written for clay @neutralbutterfly. shiromatsu... is a good ship. wish i could do it more justice. 
>   * 8: ....once again, i'm sure someone requested this, but i can't. remember. who. please murder me in cold blood, y'all.
>   * 9: written for @hoemaedakomaedanagihoenagito, hope you like it! saimatsu... is beautiful. 
>   * 10: written as a part of angst war with kyo. well. what can i say, i like sad shit. c: 
>   * thank you for your support, guys! without it, i don't think i would've finished this collection, but here we go. o/ 
> 



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